The Christmas Present By James Michener It was the turn of the century and I was a mere boy of 10. During the summers, I cut the ...

Sunday, October 23, 2011

"TODAY IS MY MOM'S BIRTHDAY"

“TODAY IS MY MOM’S
BIRTHDAY”

Today, October 23rd,
is my mom’s birthday but she has now been gone for ten years—seems like
forever. She would have been ninety one. And on her birthday, I always sent her
a dozen yellow roses for yellow was her favorite color and what woman doesn’t
love roses? Started sending her these when I was about fifteen and working
[while in high school] and onward and it became a tradition.

Lost my dad long before
her and when she died, it hit me later on that I was an orphan. Guess anyone
who has lost both parents comes to that realization as hard as it is to
comprehend.

As an only child, I didn’t
have a close relationship with my mom; she worked before I was born and
afterwards—working was her life. Either I stayed with her mom, my grandmother
or baby sitters until I was in the sixth grade for my dad also worked. I look
back at so many times I wanted to be close to her but something in her make up
put a barrier between us and that barrier lasted until the last three months of
her life.

My mom wanted me to be like
her but alas I was not—I was me. The things she liked were things I didn’t like
and yet, she had given me lessons in everything from dancing to tennis to
modeling but she was an executive secretary and there was no way I wanted to be
one. She made me start work at fifteen [with a work permit] as a typist for the
department of highways; this summer job lasted seven years. Did I like it? No
way! I hated it but I did save the money I made and used while in college and
afterwards for I became a teacher. I suppose she was proud that I chose that
profession for she told me several times that she was.

As a grown up, I lived
about ten minutes from her and tried to be the dutiful daughter; it was harder
on my part for I had two sons and she only had one child—me. Anyone with two
children knows how hard it is to work and take care of them and be everything
and yet I tried. In 2001 she started getting a metal taste in her mouth and
went to dentists and doctors; she told me that every single thing she ate
tasted like metal. And then she got the bad news that that metal taste was
cancer.

She knew what type she had
as did I for it was cancer of the liver, lungs and adrenal glands but she
didn’t want to know how long she had to live. One day I called her doctor whom
I knew and was told that she had three months left of her life. I was in utter
shock and didn’t say anything to my mom—no one did. Chemo was tried and her
outlook seemed full of hope but she was in and out of the hospital so much that
it ravaged her already ninety pound body into someone I hardly recognized.

That last few weeks of her
life, I stayed with her-- took off from teaching and wish now I had taken off
earlier. Her favorite place to sit in
her apartment was in her kitchen: She would sit at the round glass table and
peer out the window to see the street and the passing people. I sat there with
her those weeks and it was during this time that she told me how proud of me
she was and that she loved me. Never had said that to me in my entire life and
yet I knew she did love me but to hear it was what I had wanted all of my life.

We talked of miracles
happening before our eyes but avoided the talk of cancer; do remember her
saying “We don’t remember what it was before we are born and won’t know what
happens when we die.” Those words numbed
me. No one thinks that their mom will ever die for they seem invincible even
though we shove that back in our minds.

I was in the hospital with
her that last week of her life. Things went from bad to worse; she was in horrific
pain. Luckily, she had a living will and a caring doctor. Got in bed beside her
and told her it was all right to let go [how I found the courage to say those
words I don’t know] and she took her last breath on my face. It was over—I had
lost my mom.

Weeks later I would find
these little signs such as a butterfly landing on my face or arm—those signs
went on for several years. Other unexplainable things have happened since her
death and they have been good things on my part. I am left with so many unanswered
questions to which I will never find the answer and perhaps that is how it
should be.

Today I think of her and
the birthdays past and wish her with me. All I have to do is to look at yellow
roses and I am flooded with many good memories and a lot of missing. I’m glad I
was with her those last weeks of her life—no one can take that back for it was
the mother-daughter bond I so desperately sought and received.

About Me

I was an elementary teacher for 35 years but before and during teaching, I worked for 7 summers as a typist for the Dept.of Transportation. Have always written and painted in what seems like forever. I have a BS degree in Education and English and a masters degree in communication. Was a volunteer for Goodwill for 14 years during which time I served on the board of directors for 8 years. Writing and painting have been a part of my life since I was four; it is not something that I see as being audacious but more of something that is inside of me that has to surface. And I believe that everyone has a creative gene be it connected to music,acting, photography, design,advertising or any avenue that calls for creativity. It is what makes us unique. The Charleston Gazette has been so gracious in publishing many of my stories;some have been in the Charleston Daily Mail as well. And a friend of mine let me use his lobby for my first art show a year and a half ago. Dreams do come true. I have been published in The Charleston Gazette, The Daily Mail and http://usads.ms11.net/sherry2.html. Of late, I've self-published 11 Amazon Kindle E books. Be sure to check them out and thank you.